FISHING FOR A LITTLE SELF-ESTEEM WITH HOLIDAY NOVELTY

I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I did receive a number of very thoughtful Christmas gifts.

Like underwear.

It’s a reality you have to accept once you reach a certain age: No more toys.

So I had to buy my own. I purchased a number of useless gadgets, but my favorite was an electronic goldfish.

My thanks to reader Linda Gonse for the tip. She’s the editor of an informative newsletter for computer buffs published by the Orange County PC Users’ Group
(orcopug.org). She alerted me to this month’s issue containing some unique gift items.

That’s where I found that electronic fish from
ThinkGeek.com. I saw a video of it on their website and had to have it. It’s so amazingly believable. I bought it to amuse myself, but mainly to trick my grandchildren.

The fish is so lifelike, so convincing as it “swims” about the bowl, you almost want to feed it. My neighbor insisted it was real, so surely the grandchildren would believe it too.

When they arrived, I had the bowl prominently positioned on our kitchen table. The 2-year-old was totally bamboozled, just as I expected. But the challenge was going to be the 5-year-old. Her name is Eliza and she’s wise beyond her years.

I suggest, too wise.

My wife says I’m annoyed at the likelihood she’s smarter than I am. She’s probably right. My self-assurance always seems to suffer in her presence. It’s not a comfortable feeling.

There’s something peculiar about a 5-year-old being that smart. It’s an anomaly, an incongruity. As unnatural as a plastic fish. Fooling her with that gizmo was going to be more than just a simple prank. It was going to be an important attempt to stabilize a shaky ego.

She approached the fish, stared at it a moment, folded her arms and proclaimed: “It’s fake.”

I was crushed. I made a pathetic attempt to get her to change her mind.

“But look, Eliza,” I pleaded. “It’s swimming around. It has to be real.”

“I can see the wire,” she said.

My wife tried to comfort me reminding me about our neighbor and the 2-year-old, but it was of little consolation.

But then I had a stroke of genius. I hopped in my car and drove to the local Petco store. I had the plastic fish with me and found a very close match: A real goldfish. The same size, same color, same bulging eyeballs.

I eagerly replaced the fake fish with the real one and returned the bowl to its place. Eliza was returning for Christmas and I could hardly wait.

When she arrived, she approached the bowl and stared at the fish. It was a tense moment.